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- Revenue Diaries Entry 38
Revenue Diaries Entry 38
Inside: The illusion of control in leadership and life, the cultural cost of saying “not my job,” and the emotional rollercoaster of parenting six-year-olds...
Let’s be honest. Most of us don’t fear change; we fear what we’ll lose when the change shows up. And more often than not, that thing is control.
Not real control (very few of us have that to begin with), but the illusion of it. The curated version of control we build to make life feel more predictable, more manageable, more presentable.
Ah yes, “presentable.” You know the drill. Staying two steps ahead. Controlling the meeting. Managing the calendar and controlling how you show up online, in the board room, at your kid’s soccer game.
But here’s the problem: when your identity is built on control, anything that threatens it feels like a threat to you. And so you resist because it asks you to surrender something you were never really holding in the first place.
I’m reading David Brooks’ book, The Second Mountain, and in it he writes, “Workaholism is a surprisingly effective distraction from emotional and spiritual problems.” Control, in that context, becomes a shield. We bury ourselves in work to avoid asking the harder questions…
What do I actually want? What am I afraid of? Who am I when no one’s watching?
That illusion of control becomes the thing we can’t quit. And I’ve seen it play out over and over because… It’s me.
Leaders who won’t pivot because it’ll make them look indecisive. Teams that avoid honest conversations because they don’t want to lose influence. Parents who try to micromanage every moment because it’s easier than admitting they’re scared of getting it wrong.
The best thing you can do? Be honest with yourself.
My friend and x-boss, Max Yoder, wrote in Do Better Work, “When we assume positive intent and share openly, we do better work.” That only happens when we stop pretending to have it all figured out. When we stop posturing just to prove we’re in charge. When we get comfortable saying, “I don’t know,” or “We’re not ready,” or “Let’s try something different.”
That kind of surrender isn’t weakness. It’s the beginning of something new.
So if you’re stuck in a season where things feel rigid, where you’re fighting against momentum instead of flowing with it, ask yourself:
What illusion am I trying to protect?
And what would happen if I just let it go? The scary part isn’t the change. It’s what you think you’ll lose.
But you might just gain something better… yourself.
♥️ kyle
On People (and you) Giving a Damn
This is a follow-up to a LinkedIn post I made last week, emphasizing the importance of taking charge and not pointing fingers because…
You don’t need another productivity tool. You need people who give a damn.
Because no amount of AI or automation can fix what happens when your team starts saying, “That’s not my job.”
You’ve heard it before. You might’ve even said it yourself.
“That’s not our team’s responsibility.”
“That’s a sales thing.”
“We don’t own that system.”
At some point, those statements became normalized. As if protecting your bandwidth is more important than solving the actual problem… especially when that problem affects a customer.
And damn, I get it. I really do.
We’re all busy. Focus matters. Saying yes to everything is a recipe for burnout. But there’s a difference between having boundaries and building blinders.
When “not my job” becomes normalized, people stop solving problems. Teams stop working together. And leaders are forced to make decisions fast (often without context or consensus) just to keep things moving.
That’s when alignment breaks. People start playing defense instead of delivering value. And the people who lose the most? Your customers.
If you are hearing “not my job” too often, try leading with questions instead of accusations. “What would it take to solve this?” goes a lot further than “Why didn’t you do this?”
Reframe tasks around the customer impact. It’s easier to get buy-in when people understand what’s actually at stake. And make sure collaboration doesn’t feel like a career risk. Sometimes people say no because they’re afraid of overstepping.
And what if you’re the one saying it? Well, stop. :) But first, ask yourself: What would great look like in this moment? Maybe it’s not about taking on the whole thing. Maybe it’s just offering clarity, looping in the right person, or flagging the issue with the context someone else needs to help.
Let’s zoom out a little bit. Your job isn’t your title. Your job is the success of your team, your customer, and the company.
Ownership is contagious. When people see you leaning in, they remember it.
You don’t have to take everything on. But when the instinct to say “not my job” kicks in, just pause.
And ask yourself: What if I gave a damn?
On Wobbly Tooth Puberty (?)
I’m not going to comment on the name “wobbly tooth puberty.” It’s an insane name that is rooted in an issue every parent deals with. I came across the concept in a recent BBC article (who loves the BBC? Me),'Wobbly-tooth puberty': How children's brains change at six-years-old.”
It’s what the Germans call Wackelzahnpubertät.
It describes that weird emotional storm kids go through around age six. If you’ve got a six-year-old, or have had a couple like me, you know exactly what I’m talking about. One minute they’re laughing. The next time, they’re yelling at you because you cut their waffle the wrong way. Then they’re crying. Then they’re fine. Then they’re crying again.
It’s not hormones. It’s brain development. And apparently it’s a real thing.
What’s actually happening is their emotional world is expanding, but their ability to manage it hasn’t caught up yet. They’re forming identity. They’re trying to understand themselves in the world. It’s kind of like a preview of adolescence. Just smaller, louder, and stickier.
And like any struggling parent, I took some notes:
1. The mood swings aren’t random. They’re learning how to feel. And how to name what they feel. Which is harder than it sounds. Language is part of the equation. The more words they have for emotions, the more control they can start to build. But until then, things are messy. That’s normal.
2. This stage is actually a big deal. Ages 6 through 12 are when kids start forming a sense of who they are. They learn how to think more rationally. They get better at seeing how other people feel. It’s a time in their young lives that doesn’t get a lot of attention, but it’s extremely important.
3. They’re watching how we handle emotion. What we model, they repeat. If we scream when we’re frustrated, they will too. If we ignore conflict, they’ll do that. If we say, “It’s okay to feel mad, but let’s talk about it,” they start building those muscles too.
4. Friendships start to feel real. This is when kids begin to understand fairness. They start noticing who’s being left out. They care about how others are treated. They still might mess it up, but the awareness is there. They’re trying. I wrote about this very thing in entry 34 about my son attending his first baseball camp.
5. They get more self-conscious. This one kind of hurts. As kids become more socially aware, they also start doubting themselves. Research calls it the “liking gap.” They think people like them less than they actually do. Which can lead to a lot of insecurity.
So, what am I going to try and start doing?
Don’t fix everything. Just guide them. It’s tempting to step in and solve problems. But the better move is to coach. Ask questions. Help them think about what might have been going on in a situation. Let them process it out loud. That’s where the growth happens.
You don’t have to be perfect. Just present. God knows, you’re not going to nail every response. Neither will they. What matters is consistency. Keep helping them make sense of a really confusing time.
So yeah. Wobbly teeth. Wobbly hearts. Wobbly everything.
But they’re learning. And we are too.
P.S. Wobbly is a terrible word.